Blade
by LithiumKiss
Summary: "He said no," Belarus said with a terrorizing, calm voice. "He always says no." Ukraine, Belarus and established Russia/Latvia


**AN: ...I don't know what this is. I hope someone can make sense of it. I was watching Jane Eyre and it was at the bit where Rochester's crazy wife tries to kill Mason and this popped into my head. Enjoy (I hope you do!) despite how strange this is. I'm sorry if there's any OOCness - I haven't written Ukraine or Belarus before. **

**I don't own Hetalia.**

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**Blade**

She was a little girl once. An innocent, pretty little girl who loved sunflowers, frilly dresses and ribbons. She loved to laugh, to talk and to catch snowflakes on her tongue.

Ukraine tried to swallow away the painful lump in her throat but to no avail. The bitter cold from the snow beneath her feet seemed to seep into the bottoms of her shoes and traveled up through her legs and spread throughout the rest of her body, causing her to shiver; the breath to catch in her throat. It was any wonder the tears that ran down her face didn't freeze where they were as the chilling winds whipped past, mimicking General Winter's war cries.

A shuddering intake of breath caused the little girl inside her head to vanish. Beside her, the now grown-up girl, the now _woman_, who still wore a ribbon in her hair and continued to love sunflowers just because her brother did, was shaking with fear. Or was it anger?

"He said no," Belarus said with a terrorizing, calm voice. "He always says no." Her grip on the knife tightened, her knuckles unnaturally pale. Crimson blood dripped from the sharp blade onto the crisp white snow at her feet.

Both pairs of eyes rested on Russia's still body lying in the snow, wide, downcast and unmoving. When Ukraine could no longer look at the blood-stained scarf around his neck, she took her sister's hand and together they fled into the night as fast as their feet would carry them. She was certain Belarus would have tried to stop her so she could go back to Russia, but it seemed as though she was just as eager to get away from his body as Ukraine had been.

"They'll find him soon," Ukraine said breathlessly when they reached her small farmhouse amongst the withered wheat fields. "They'll know it was you," she added in quiet sadness, more to herself than to Belarus.

"And they won't be able to do anything about it, will they?" Belarus replied in a chilling, almost sing-song voice. She dropped the knife on the floor and stalked into the laundry room. Ukraine followed her, hurrying past the bloodied weapon as though it would spring to life and stab her.

"Why, Belarus?" She wasn't sure whether she particularly wanted to know exactly why Belarus had attacked Russia so brutally, lest it drove her to insanity.

"Damn it," Belarus hissed as she scrubbed at the dark stain on the front of her apron. She pulled the dress up and over her head and dropped it into the sink, turning the faucet until water was streaming out at full-force. "You wouldn't understand," she answered angrily.

Ukraine swallowed uneasily, and cautiously moved toward her sister, placing her hands gently on her shoulders. The Belarusian paused in her actions, tensing at the touch slightly, before continuing to scrub at the garment violently. "Of course I would understand, I'm your sister and I love you."

Belarus gave a humourless giggle and stopped scrubbing the dress. She placed her hands on the edge of the basin and inhaled deeply. "He always refuses me even when I tell him I love him the most out of everybody in the whole wide world. Do you think that's fair?"

The Ukrainian shook her head slowly unable to find her voice, despite the fact that Belarus couldn't see the gesture. "No," she eventually said and started to run her fingers through the long silky blonde strands, remembering with a distant heartache how beautiful Belarus' hair looked when the summer sun's rays shone down upon it. Summer was much too far away from them now.

"So I waited for him to come home, deciding that I would force him to confess his love for me, seeing as he wouldn't give it to me freely." She giggled again and leaned back until her back came to rest against Ukraine's chest.

"And then?" Ukraine asked shakily, putting her arms around her sister's waist, more to comfort herself, to make sure she was still able to stand.

"He came home with that little brat that hangs off his arm all the time. I told him that I loved him and he would not refuse me this time. They both started to run away from me so I chased them until I managed to get a hold of Vanya's scarf. He told his little lackey to go and obediently he did, so I had my chance to coax the confession right from brother dearest's mouth. However, he denied me again so I took my knife and plunged it right into his chest. 'Your heart is mine' I told him."

Ukraine almost fainted in shock. Her legs began to tremble and her stomach twisted itself into knots of fear, every fibre of her being screaming for her to leave, but against her better judgment she stayed and continued to hold onto her sister, awaiting the terrible ending that was to come. "S-So you...?"

"Yes - I tried to cut out his heart," Belarus claimed with proud determination. "Then I could hold it in my hands and it would be mine forever. But then," she continued, her voice dying down into a solemn, almost-whisper. "I realised that I didn't want him to die. We're family and we vowed that we would take care of him, didn't we Ukraine?"

"We did," Ukraine agreed weakly.

"So I took my knife from his chest and he fell to the ground, as though he was dead. And that's when you found us."

Ukraine wondered why she hadn't heard her brother making a noise. He hadn't even uttered a groan of pain. Perhaps he had been too frightened to make a sound? He'd never warmed to Belarus like Ukraine had. When they were children their relationship had been somewhat normal; they played together in the sunflowers and slept in the same bed. General Winter's cruelty had obviously affected Belarus more than Ukraine had first suspected.

"How about you go to bed and I'll wash your dress for you? You must be tired."

Belarus turned in Ukraine's arms and gave her a kiss on the cheek before leaving the laundry room, humming a tune to herself that was unfamiliar to her. Ukraine took a breath and put her hands into the tainted water, determined to get the stain out of the fabric. Both of them certainly didn't need a reminder of what had happened.

Shock still ran cold through her veins; it all seemed too surreal. Ukraine had read many novels about scorned women, jealous and unkind women, made so by a passionate yet unrequited love, driven to kill their sweethearts so that nobody else could touch them. In Ukraine's eyes, Belarus was not scorned, yet she had the tendency to be jealous and unkind, but never to the extent that she would want to kill her own brother; the love of her life. On second thoughts, it didn't seem too farfetched - perhaps Ukraine, despite her many years of living, years of experiences good and bad, was just a little naive. She hadn't fallen in love with another nation or human; the only one she cared for was Belarus, and her brother to some extent, despite his fluctuating bouts of wickedness.

When the stain had finally vanished from the dress, Ukraine put it beside the fire to dry. The night had suddenly disappeared into the early hours of the next morning and Ukraine had to be up early so she the chance to have just a few hours of sleep passed her by. She still avoided the knife which lay unmoved on the wooden floor, the blood on the blade having dried hours ago. Still, Ukraine didn't want Belarus having it back in her possession, so with a tea towel, she picked it up by the handle and discarded the weapon into the garbage, along with the towel.

Belarus was a little girl once. An innocent, pretty little girl who loved sunflowers, frilly dresses and ribbons. She loved to laugh, to talk and to catch snowflakes on her tongue.

The snow fell steadily outside the window, settling itself on the edges of the frames and on the sill. Ukraine watched idly for a few moments before covering her face with her hands and bursting into tears, mourning her sister's lost innocence.

**...**

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A week had passed since the incident happened. Ukraine had allowed Belarus to go home only on the condition that she would visit once every two days and stay away from Russia's house. Belarus had requested she visit their brother to make sure he was well. Ukraine didn't want to, but she decided her sister needed just a little comfort so she was willing to visit for her sake.

"Ukraine, good morning."

Walking towards her was Lithuania and Poland, arm in arm, smiles on their faces. Well, Poland's lips were set in a childish pout, eyes angrily directed at the flowers in Lithuania's hand. Ukraine greeted them and wondered why Lithuania would be giving her flowers. She wondered whether he'd heard about Russia.

"What brings you two here today?"

Lithuania blushed slightly and looked at the ground, trying to string a few words together before Poland huffed and rolled his eyes.

"Liet has come to give the crazy bitch an offering. It's like, so totally wrong."

"Poland..." Lithuania groaned.

Ukraine was taken aback by the sting in Poland's words, but was quick to jump into the defensive. "Don't you talk about my sister like that. She may be angry but she's not crazy."

"Whatever. Is she like, here or not?"

"No. How about you take Lithuania home and come back another time? She's not up to seeing anybody at the moment?"

"I-Is she ill?" Lithuania looked up, his eyes widened with worry.

"No." Ukraine sighed and lowered her voice as though there might be others listening in. "Belarus attacked Russia and they're both in bad shape."

Poland burst out laughing. "Oh! Oh, that's so, like, priceless!"

"That's not funny, Poland!"

"Oh, Liet. You should see your face. Totally priceless!"

Ukraine clenched her hands into angry fists and fought back the urge to stab through Poland's heart herself. "Just leave. Both of you." With that, she pushed past them and continued on her way, walking fast to drain herself of her energy and her anger. If she was too tired she wouldn't have to stay for too long, or with any luck, Russia would be sleeping.

Luck had decided to abandon her when she reached Russia's house and Estonia let her in, explaining that Russia was awake. However, it thought better of it's decision and came back when she reached his bedroom door. Latvia was inside, sitting beside him on his bed, talking to him softly. Ukraine watched as the smaller nation brushed the hair from his forehead with one hand and held Russia's hand with his other. When Latvia leaned into him and Russia craned his neck so their lips could meet, Ukraine turned away unnoticed. It seemed as though Russia was in good health and in good hands; at least she could tell her beloved Belarus that much. Ukraine could tell her a lie, that he had forgiven her, yet he would still run at the sight of her. She could say that he didn't remember, yet he would still run. She could just say that he was asleep.

But, staring at her as clearly as a blue summer sky, the truth was that Ukraine knew that she would never tell Belarus that Russia would never be able to give her his heart, no matter how much she wanted it.

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**-Fin**


End file.
